Diamond Turned Dust
by Spylace
Summary: AU. Two-shot. Spoilers. It isn’t for humanitarian reasons he approaches him the first time. Nevertheless, that’s how their friendship starts no matter how one-sided it may seem.
1. 1

Title: Diamond Turned Dust

Time line: Pre-series to Soul Society arc

Summary: AU. It isn't for humanitarian reasons he approaches him the first time. Nevertheless, that's how their friendship starts no matter how one-sided it may seem.

Spoilers: spoilers for Diamond Dust Rebellion

Rating: T

Pairing: none

Chapters: 1/2

A.N.: What possibly could have happened if Kusaka Soujiro was the one to survive?

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* * *

It isn't for humanitarian reasons that he approached him for the first time. In fact, it was forced and awkward. No one was willing to pair up with the strange boy with white hair, the instructor had simply thrown the two together and expected them to work with each other and learn to be a team.

Kusaka had flushed under the sniggers and indignity of having a younger student attached at his hip. This was the first time they would go out and face real hollows on the field (as weak-leveled as they were supposed to be) to purify them. He hadn't needed a resident reject to slow him down!

The thought had seemed justified then, it just shamed him now.

Months on end they learn, train, practice, and struggle to catch up to one another, Hitsugaya to Kusaka's longer legs and Kusaka to Hitsugaya's greater skill. Hitsugaya isn't just good, he is a genius. Anyone could see it from the way he moved, the flawless way he controlled his power usage so it wouldn't go to waste. He had seen many of his fellow students fall in exhaustion during training long before their time because of the energy management. But Hitsugaya had never seemed to tire even amidst the crowd of taller, stronger, and smarter (supposedly) seniors. In fact he was always one of the few to get past the obstacle course to stare down a Hollow several times (several hundred times) his size. He never even flinched when its gaping mouth opened wide to swallow him whole.

One time Kusaka had fallen, a cut tendon in his right leg when he stood too close to a faux Hollow and it had blown up. Another Hollow (again, a training dummy) had landed cumbersomely beside him ready to deal him the blow that could have possibly taken his head off. His friends had all stood in a half-circle out of the Hollow's range and tried vainly to awaken their spineless soul cutters.

Hitsugaya had jumped in front of him without a preamble.

He didn't even bat an eye when the pieces of Hollow dummy fell all around him broken in pieces.

After that, all barriers dissolved as they tended to do when person A saves person B. Kusaka begins to actually hang out with Hitsugaya during meal breaks or after class. It isn't long before they become the best of friends.

-

He grabs Toushiro's hand and dances. It's only when the younger boy doesn't pull away after the initial protest he realizes how attention-starved the 'ghost' of Shinigami Academy is.

From that point on he compliments the younger boy as much as he can get away with—as much as Toushiro is willing to accept. He and Toushiro do nearly everything together. People begin to notice, other students now sneer when he walks past them in the halls. Kusaka doesn't care, not really. He is sad that he isn't as close to as his other friends as before but is more disappointed in them than in himself.

Teachers praise him for befriending such a lonely boy; instructors approve his choice of a strong comrade. On the weekend he receives a package from Momo Hinamori, Toushiro's adopted sister. He thinks there's been a mistake until Toushiro explains the gift with an embarrassed scowl. Kusaka sets the package down beside him gently before pouncing and giving Toushiro the noogie of his life. Toushiro yelps loudly but smiles when Kusaka discovered to his delight he has received colored rice cakes.

When they discover the names of their soul cutters it should have been the happiest point of their lives. But they know, their story is finally at its end. Their zampakuto turn out to be identical and as soon as the tail of Kusaka's Hyourinmaru disappears into the night, the headmaster comes up to the duo with a grim faced look.

-

They spend the rest of their night in the confinements of a cell. Hands bound, they quietly whisper plans of escape into each other's ear. Each plan is more ludicrous than the last. Their Hyourinmarus (almost identical but not quite) lay out of reach behind the thick, wooden bars. Their fingers burn every time they touch the specially erected barrier. In the end they fall asleep in the early hours of morning, pressed tight against each other's side.

Morning comes and they are led out like fugitives. The restraints come free and they are handed back their respective zampakutos. They silently (discreetly) exchange them back, Hitsugaya with his thinner sword and Kusaka with his broader, longer one. The somber first division officers flanking them, they enter the corridors of Central 46 Chambers.

The conditions were simple written in ink. No two shinigami may possess the same soul cutter. One must kill the other and take the soul cutter as his or her own.

Kusaka stands with a stunned look on his face and Toushiro protests vehemently,

"I won't fight him; I'd rather denounce my claim."

The judges' voices blur into soft rumblings. The commander-general spits out questions to which Toushiro answered for him. He noticed the ring of darkness closing down upon them and realizes that they are the Special Forces. He shook his head, marveling at the naivety of his younger friend. He unsheathes his double of Hyourinmaru from the obi around his waist and pointed it at Toushiro's face.

"Draw your sword Hitsugaya." He says with deceptive calm. He sees the men drawing back and gives an internal sigh of relief. "I want Hyourinmaru." Toushiro looks stricken and almost fragile in his delicate youth. But he too grips Hyourinmaru's hilt in his hands, thin fingers clawing the woven design. The vessels of reiatsu burst into blades of icy white light. Kusaka wants nothing more than to blame it, the notorious dragon of the snow and ice family.

The two Hyourinmarus roar before canceling each other out. They fight, with nothing more than useless steel and kidou crackling in their palms. Kusaka has an advantage in height and Toushiro in his ingenuity. Kusaka can simply raise his head to avoid a vicious slash to his neck. Toushiro can freeze the floor in uneven slopes until the older boy inevitably slips and falls.

Kusaka knee folds and their katanas meet grinding against each other. The screech of metal on metal hurts their ears but they do not part. It's almost like daily training exercise only they had so much more to lose than an extra sweet at lunch.

They grit their teeth, push at each other and call upon the one who started it all

"Sit upon the frozen heavens, Hyourinmaru!"

-

Kusaka kneels defeated, his fingers still wrapped tightly around Hyourinmaru. His right eye burns, seared shut with pearly frost and Kusaka knows this is the end. He trains his eyes towards the demure feet and extends his neck until the first few knobs of his spine are bared. Helpless tears pool at the corner of his eyes before solidifying into erose snowflakes. He awaits his prize; he prays that it will be quick.

"No"

The temperature drops even further, spiraling down until even he has trouble breathing. The black operative soldiers are blown backwards. Toushiro stands (perfectly) in front of him, a frown scrunching up his nose as his sword hand shakes. Hyourinmaru seems to tremble with the said limb; he feels the echo of the dragon's roar deep inside him. His katana too seems to be moving, like a stiff tail of a serpent longing to be free. "No."

Toushiro's eyes roll and Kusaka swears he is the only one who sees it. He has never seen the stoic boy fear, be afraid of anything at all. But if there was a once of such emotion in the boy's tiny body, it rears its ugly head now in the oceanic green. Their loose clothing ruffles around their limbs, Kusaka bows down even further as his hand unconsciously clenches around Hyourinmaru's blade. His hand bleeds and the pain wakes him long enough from the cold to witness the series of events that will change his life forever.

"Bankai," Toushiro pivots on his foot and turns his back towards Kusaka. Hyourinmaru is raised, the silver point aimed at the ceiling. Flowers appear seeming to materialize out of nothing but the thin air they breathe in. there are three in all, four petals for each. They float behind Hitsugaya (a countdown Kusaka realizes unconsciously) each second clarifying the painstaking detail etched in the folds.

Captain Yamamoto looks surprised, Kusaka smirks pinned to the ground in chains of ghostly frost. He would have whooped a praise of encouragement to his younger friend had he been able. More changes appear, wings of translucent ice are slung over the thin shoulders, a tail forms in a rivulet of frozen river, watery scales grow in gentle curves around Hitsugaya's wrist and ankles. Without awaiting a reaction, Toushiro leaps forward propelled by newly formed wings. The Special Forces react a second too late as Hyourinmaru thrusts itself at the Commander-General's neck, cutting the soft skin below the chin and shaving off a good portion of the off-white beard.

Captain Yamamoto jumps out of the way. Toushiro buffets his wings, turning in midair. He repels the Special Force members as he perches over Yamamoto's seat. More than half of them lay buried in ice as a lifelike statue. He glares at the 46 chamber members, defiant and terribly proud. Kusaka has never been proud of him still. Yamamoto looks peevishly surprised and smears the spot of blood against his thickly veined neck.

Without being asked, the men in black jump back and assemble shields around the pompous council members. Kusaka feels a prickle of fear along his spine, it is a sentiment shared with Hitsugaya as the boy floats down and gently lands on the rime-marbled floor. The air itself seems to wilt, sucked into an invisible vacuum. The snow and ice melts, though the wings on Hitsugaya's back remain stiff and strong. The water evaporates into vapor and then there is simply nothing left at all. Hyourinmaru has granted them his protection at least, they know the heat is real (just look at the Special Forces struggling) but it has not reached them yet.

And when the situation turns quiet as all things tend to do, the captain of the first division says softly, "Turn all of creation to ashes, Ryuujin Jakka."

Both students' eyes widen and Toushiro tilts his head away from the shining nova as if it almost hurts to look at it. Kusaka reaches out to him in vain hopes that maybe he can pull him out of the way. But his arms aren't long enough this time. The hand around Hyourinmaru clenches, nearly severing all the fingers on his left hand.

Last thing he sees of Toushiro is the way he stares back at him, spine ramrod straight as his eyes reflected amber wonderment and indecision that came with being a child.

-

Kusaka doesn't speak much after that.


	2. 2

Title: Diamond Turned Dust

Time line: Pre-series to Soul Society arc

Summary: AU. It isn't for humanitarian reasons he approaches him the first time. Nevertheless, that's how their friendship starts no matter how one-sided it may seem.

Spoilers: spoilers for Diamond Dust Rebellion

Rating: T

Pairing: none

Chapters: 2/2

A.N.: I haven't watched DDR actually, just read spoilers off other people's blogs so... no I don't know where you can download a copy of it. As far as I know, it comes out in DVD in July... or something.

Thanks for all the reviews :)

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* * *

He is told to keep quiet.

The official story is that Toushiro died in a training accident involving an evolving Hollow. He doesn't correct them (he can't) but it doesn't stop the touch of sneer contorting his features as those around him go on reminiscing the better qualities of Toushiro that they had (as had he) so easily disregarded in the past.

Fifth division's Hinamori Momo comes up to him and slaps him after the graduation ceremony. His bottom lip impales itself on his upper right incisor and begins to bleed. There is a speck of blood caught on the tip of her right hand. Her face is blotchy and red, there are bags under her eyes (panda eyes) and she looks terribly wane.

The confrontation ends when Aizen Sousuke himself comes to collect his distraught subordinate. He stares at the man bleakly, the damaged half of his face covered by disheveled hair. The captain smiles down at him gently and he tenses despite himself, backing away from the hand straying towards his shoulder. Aizen lets it slide without a comment, almost pitying look entering his amber, brown eyes.

"If you ever want to talk about it..." he offers.

Kusaka gives a short thanks and looks away.

-

He is given a fourth seat fresh out of the academy.

It is the tenth division, the one that Hitsugaya Toushiro would have commanded had he lived.

He shares the number with a recalcitrant man who rarely lets him touch anything within the division other than breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and maybe his chair. And that if he was feeling generous.

So Kusaka found himself wandering alone often, too young, too new to step into the inner circle while too high in rank to mingle with the other juniors.

He plants watermelon seeds beneath the office window. They are like black droplets of water that flow off of his fingers. They get lost in the dirt and stretch towards the sun. He thinks it ironic considering how much Hitsugaya hated the hotter months of the year. He never talks to the plants, he never (he won't) strokes the feathered leaves nor the curling vines. But he sits out with them on most days, his lunch untouched.

No one needs him anyways.

-

"Umm..." Matsumoto Rangiku the notorious party girl-slash-lieutenant, the commander of the tenth division as it did not have a captain, and the sight that many a male shinigami would die to behold. He bows accordingly to her rank. "You were in the academy until a few months ago am I right Kusaka?"

"Yes lieutenant." He replies dutifully and wonders where this is going. The blonde looks uncomfortable, her fingers twined around her pink scarf. He starts to wonder if she'll ever speak again at all.

"There was a boy there." She sighs finally rubbing her temples. "Small, white hair, should have graduated this winter..." the last part is a hushed mumble but Kusaka hears it anyways. Her lips curve up in a slight, faraway smile not meant for his eyes. It's the earnest concern in her continence that awes him, humbles him and scares him at the same time—_someone remembered!_

Then he remembers, they're not supposed to talk of it. Hitsugaya Toushiro no longer exists except for in the obscurest of memories.

"He's dead."

She looks as though she has been slapped. He repeats bitterly, "he's dead and it's my fault." She walks away without a second glance.

-

He starts wearing masks.

At first they are picked at random, no order, standard black operative mask he swipes during lunch. Plainest festival masks he can get his hand on, the most ridiculous ones, sometimes paper cut-outs that shred when he exhales. Then he takes a leaf out of Captain Komamura and Captain Mayuri's book and creates his own.

His mask is bone-white and plated, set in the shape of overlapping scales. He imagines the face of the imaginary hollow that killed Toushiro as he smoothes down the wood with sand paper. He sees a beard of snowy white and the small scar beneath it. He remembers the first time he saw Toushiro's hair, how they had whispered '_ghost_' against his back.

When it's complete he touches it lovingly almost as though it was another person's face.

(Toushiro)

He puts it on and breathes through the soft wood.

And he begins to cry.

-

As a fourth seat, it is his duty to lead patrols around designated areas and sort out whatever mischief his subordinates manage to land themselves into. He privately thinks it is the only reason he is granted reprieve from the tedious paperwork.

The junior members all stare in reverence every time he takes out Hyourinmaru. Even the lower-ranked senior members look in interest as he dispatches Hollows one by one. Kusaka doesn't know why, the soul cutter is nothing special (a murderer), simply a dead piece of metal too cold to touch.

Hyourinmaru does not answer him as it did Hitsugaya.

It feels as though like him, Hyourinmaru did not manage to escape their choices unscathed. So frozen in its absolute winter the dragon rarely rouses and even then it seldom does anything except watch. But that small window of power when it opens its eyes is more than enough to freeze the fine hairs off the other seat members.

And that is only their initial release.

The final release comes when a rogue adjuchas gorged on souls picks at his mind. Hyourinmaru awakes at last, enraged at the blatant defilement (how dare he) of Toushiro's memories. There is no pain as he is overwhelmed and consequently consumed in the icy path.

He will later wake up with kind hands telling him that he was lucky to have survived.

He will think that he should have, better now than later.

-

He comes to after a few weeks. He is surprised to see that the person sitting by his side is not one of the fourth division's attendees but lieutenant Hinamori herself. She looks tired and he feels oddly touched that she has sat by his side all this time.

"Are you alright Kusaka-kun?"

"I'm... fine... thank you for asking lieutenant."

She shifts and fumbles with the sheets. She smoothes it out where there are no wrinkles. She worries at her nails with her teeth.

Kusaka remains silent, well aware of the terms they last parted on. After all this time, he wonders what they have to say to each other.

"I... I'm sorry I should apologize about that day. Aizen-taichou told me what really happened and I... I'm so sorry. I... I thought you were going to die and you would have never known how sorry I was for blaming you!" she is in hysterics now, positively terrified at the mortality of their fragile souls.

"It's okay..."

"But it's not, it's not okay... oh Shiro-chan would be so mad at me right now."

He touches her hand gently and she hiccups to a stop. He sits up (wincing) and she stares back fearfully but does not try to stop him. Drops of salt cling to her long lashes as they are transferred to his own. And slowly they press their chapped lips together in a chaste kiss.

The door opens and a short, dark-haired boy enters carrying in a medicinal tray. Hinamori backs away immediately, face aflame with a radiant glow. She stammers another quick 'sorry' before sprinting out the door.

And he stares out the doorway for the longest time.

-

He is young but it can't be helped. It has been expected of him ever since he emerged as the sole owner of a sentient (damaged) sword called Hyourinmaru.

He stands before a line of captains, the tenth, the eleventh, twelfth and the thirteenth, absent for various and obvious reasons. But the remaining nine captains are enough to sway him, to make him hesitate when tendrils of multicolored reiatsu sting at his skin. The most obvious of all is from the Commander-General, Kusaka's lips turn down in displeasure beneath the mask.

They talk amongst themselves, quiet enough that the words are lost, loud enough that the meanings are carried to his ears. Captain Yamamoto clears his throat and the others shuffle back in line.

The Commander-General looks the same. An outsider would never have been able to tell that Kusaka was being promoted to captaincy. He remembers the identical expression when Hitsugaya was executed (murdered) and his fist grows tight around Hyourinmaru's hilt.

He sees the scar now, hidden by lengths of pale hairs. The beard grows scraggly where it had once been cut. It is shorter on that side and drooping. It will never manage the rolling wave-like quality of others. It is one more (hidden) mark Hitsugaya has left on their world. And somehow it gives him the courage to go on. If a child could stand up to an adult without fearing repercussions, can he not prove himself worthy in the eyes of the nine captains present?

Kusaka discards his mask. He doesn't wait and see what kind of reaction it elicits as the Commander General raises a wizened hand. Hyourinmaru hums slightly, more effort on its part than in the past decades. It seems as though at least, the dragon wants to give him this much. The hand falls towards the ground in a starting signal.

"Sit upon the frozen heavens... Hyourinmaru!"

-

He becomes a captain.

-

The first ones to know outside the thirteen captains and the Central Council are the black striped green watermelons basking in the sun beneath the office window. He picks a decently sized fruit and cuts it open. Its insides are like a frosted heart. He starts eating, he lets the juices smear back into the earth.

-

The tenth division has gone without a captain for a long time. Some even say that the seat is haunted. Others (his former friends) mention that it's a perfect place for someone like him. He internally agrees as he sits on the long-untouched chairs of his office for the first time.

Matsumoto is up bright and early as she throws upon the windows.

There is a lone vine with budding leaves creeping along the edge. He smiles (fond) before turning to the paperwork that will become his life for the rest of his captaincy. He finds none but a (his) somber-faced lieutenant closing the door behind her then leaning against it.

"How did he die?"

Now he can tell the truth.

-

By chance, he bumps into Captain Aizen one day out for a walk by the sixth division compounds. Here the cherry blossoms bloom year round and most find it irresistible to visit the place at least once a week. The older man benevolently answers all the questions from younger squad members. Hinamori Momo follows closely behind, equally star-struck as the rest.

The man looks genuinely pleased to see him and Kusaka can't help but smile back.

He greets Hinamori more tenderly than he had in the past. She blushes but doesn't acknowledge him beyond a soft nod.

Their relationship never evolves beyond shy kisses and stolen looks. Hinamori remains (unhealthily) enchanted under Aizen's spell. And Kusaka, Kusaka is content to wait and receive whatever is left over. He knows better than anyone the truth about having everything one wishes for. He carries it by his side everyday, sheathed in lengths of green cloth.

-

One day, the tentative peace of his world is shattered once more.

"NOO! Captain Aizen!!"

-

A state of alert has been placed. All Gotei 13 members are now allowed to use their zampakutos as they see fit. They have been commanded to root out the intruders and capture them, barring that they must kill them.

Something is wrong. The timing is all wrong; Aizen is dead and has named pretty Hinamori as his successor. The captains have been scattered in the four directions, messages come in every hour by the dozens. So-and-so has fallen; the prestigious fighting squad has been incapacitated. The sixth division's captain has turned on his own lieutenant. A fourth division seat has been taken hostage. Matsumoto is making calls, preparing, keeping watch.

And still Kusaka Soujiro does not move from the window.

The thin, green stem has grown tall though it is not of the climbing ivy variety. It stretches far above his head, aiming for the roof. Kusaka thinks it appropriate and shakes his head free of the image of a white-haired boy still training in the dark.

His hand brushes against his soul cutter idly hoping as he shifts his stance. There are no words to be had from the elemental dragon (not one). His zampakuto is like a dead fetus long past miscarriage. It is like a cancerous part of him that he longs to cut out, it echoes of hollow death and pain that they as a collective unit have suffered. But for now Hyourinmaru is still his, Hitsugaya's legacy. He has to make it worth it.

A black butterfly bats against his ears and he captures it in the palm of his hands.

It is Hinamori; her voice comes out in alarmed squeaks from the ebon messenger.

All 46 members of the Central Chambers are dead.

He accidently crushes the butterfly in his hand.

He can't help but grin with savage (was justice not sweet?) pleasure. Then he remembers that Hinamori, Hinamori needs him and he can't afford to be assailed by past memories just now.

He leaves Matsumoto a note and a butterfly. Then he quickly sprints towards the heart of their wounded city.

-

It is as she had said, they lay dead cold and stiff, long since disfigured by rigor mortis. Their blood crumbles at his touch and the black powder fills the air. He breathes into it vindictively and remembers the last time he saw them, so sure of their righteousness that they couldn't see something special had happened, something worth preserving.

Kusaka resists the urge to stab the flaccid flesh and walks on. His footsteps sound oddly hollow here, something refrains him from calling out to the brown-eyed girl that had called him. Hyourinmaru brushes against him, brief (cool) like something rolling in their sleep. Unusual seeing as how the ice dragon kept away from him unless they were in the middle of a battle. Kusaka keeps his guard up.

"Hello there Kusaka."

"You're... you're alive..." he quickly skims over the brunette's form, the healthy glow of bronzed skin to the firm fingers stretching beneath the long sleeves. The hole in the man's chest is absent as it should be. There is no indication this is the man who has been declared dead not more than a few days ago. "Captain Aizen..." he does not see the second man (Ichimaru Gin) emerge from the shadows to take place beside the former. His breath hitches. He smells the fresh splash of copper on him. Neither makes a move to stop him as he shunpo inside the back room.

Hinamori stares at the wall with blank eyes, her chin painted in red. Her shinigami garb has been cut horizontally at the waist, the skin and muscle beneath also. He can see the faint throbbing of an organ beneath the surface and feels sick even as pours his limited healing powers into her broken body.

Her skin turns blue and his turns white. Belatedly he realizes that Hyourinmaru is unsealing itself and that the real danger is not in the beautiful girl dying in his arms but behind, behind where he never would have entered had he known.

"How could you? Your own lieutenant!"

"You've seen how she is; she will never be able to survive without me." Aizen explains smoothly as he takes his glasses off. With a sickening clench to his stomach, he realizes he is no longer staring at the treacherous captain of the fifth division but someone else entirely. Ichimaru Gin snickers behind the brunette, obviously amused at his shock. "It would have been a crueler fate indeed to let her live."

"Bankai..." he unsheathes Hyourinmaru and gets into a ready stance. The zampakuto vibrates in his hands, vitality where once there was none. Does it know, he wonders, does it recognize the dead? Does it understand that Hitsugaya's death has now been paid in blood a thousand times over?

Or does it think it's not enough and is revenge the only reason he has been hailed the captain of the tenth division?

The weight of the glacial wings is familiar upon his back as is the face of the dragon imprinted on his hand. He sees the eyes alight for the first time and is reassured. "Daiguren Hyourinmaru."

His thick tail coils by his feet, Aizen looks almost disappointed.

The man steps forward and Kusaka buffets his wings, unable to step back. The brunette seems little affected by the cutting gale.

"I must admit, I had many hopes for you. Hitsugaya Toushiro... was not as receptive of me."

Kusaka swallows, bitter salt clogging his throat. Aizen walks past him, his soul cutter stopping gracefully at his side. In an instant, the young man's stomach has been sliced open, slippery ropes of intestines pushing at the tenuous hold. He clutches at his chest weakly, Hyourinmaru frozen form still covering his skin. He turns around but neither Gin nor Aizen is there anymore.

Hitsugaya stares back at him startled, beautiful and still boyish...

(Alive)

Kusaka doesn't flinch as he is skewered through.


End file.
